A stone's throw from normal
by cuddlyscorpio
Summary: Sam is kidnapped after a breakfast run. Season 3
1. Breakfast

It was thirty five days after Cold Oak, thirty three days after Sam found out that Dean made a deal for him, that Gordon got to him. Thirty five days was just long enough for Dean to relax and let Sam get out of the motel on his own. He realised that he should not have relaxed at all. He only had eleven months left. Not even that should have been enough. Ten months was what it took to get Sam back. Just long enough for Sam to get back to an almost sort of normal. But that wasn't enough, or should have been, but that was all he could give before the Hellhounds got him.

Gordon got Sam coming out of the restaurant with two coffees and a couple of donuts. He needed the coffee to start up his almost asleep brain. He'd been researching a way out of Dean's deal until the early hours when he fell asleep on the laptop. Even his tiredness could not keep the nightmares away though, and he was up and out the room before he even really woke up. No reason to wake Dean, even if he had been more relaxed with Sam disappearing from sight now and again. He hadn't been sleeping too well either. _Two peas in a pod, on more levels than one_, Sam thought bitterly.

So if someone sneaked up on him without him noticing, it should not really have surprised him. Over-tired and half way asleep on his legs did not exactly mean that he noticed much that was going on around him, the world closing down to how to get Dean out of his deal, research mode taking everything else over.

The sudden _Hallo Sam_ scared the crap out of him and he dropped the coffees and paper bag more out of reflex that actually wanting to defend himself when he felt a gun at his back. 

_Don't make a noise, there's lots of people around we wouldn't want to notice and get hurt. _

Sam thought of his options and nodded slowly. 

_Whatever you say, Gordon. What do you want? _

A sharp poke with the gun made him shut up quickly and he moved in the direction that Gordon pushed him to.

_We are going to be very calm and get into that van there, _pointing to a black window tinted vehicle parked right in front of them. _Don't even think of using those freaky powers of yours, or I will start shooting. I make good on my promises._

The words surprised Sam into a '_what?' _before Gordon poked him again and he closed his mouth with a snap. Gordon was crazy enough to start shooting people, he did not doubt that. The van's back door swung open and Gordon shoved him inside so quick that Sam did not get a chance to get his legs under him and ended up in a sprawl in the back. He was just pushing himself up when he felt restraining hands and a prick in his neck and he went limp, not unconscious, just completely without any feeling and no way to control his limbs, capable of talking still. He felt himself being tied up with chains. 

_You are gonna help us, whether you want to or not, Sammy. I have learned a lot about your kind since we last met, and I've shared my findings with some like-minded people. Never thought jail would be a good finding place for fellow hunters. Don't even worry about Dean, he should be glad of us ridding him of your presence. Do you think the deal will be void if you die before his deadline? I bet he'd be glad of that._

Sam kept quiet, not moving his lips beyond the pinch it had gone into when he had felt the prick of the needle. 

_Oh, don't be like that. You won't have a choice as soon as the drugs kick in properly. Truth serum is a bitch to try and fight._

Even as he said it, Sam could feel it, inhibitions loosening and laziness that border on sleepy creeping over him. He knew that there was no way to fight it, never thought that he would have to one day.

_Sammy Winchester. Did not think we would meet up like this, I guess I'm just lucky. Knew your father - Stand up guy. Would not have been happy with you. I bet he would have made sure that Dean let you go when you slipped the mortal coil in Cold Oak. _

Sam must have looked surprised, because the man smirked and went on, _yeah, that's got your attention. We know more than you would like, Winchester. We have eyes and ears everywhere. But don't worry, we won't hurt you. We have got a very important job for you. Do you get visions of people about to die?_

A noise escaped Sam, a small _no_ and then he answered with a more forceful _no, not since yellow eyes died. _Surprised, he kept on, _all the visions were linked with yellow eyes and the psychic kids, but it died when he died. I'm normal now, or as normal as a hunter who died and got resurrected can get. _

A small snicker escaped then, and Sam knew he was screwed.

_I'm so screwed! Dean is gonna kill me. You have to let me get back to Dean, I have to save his life. Or his soul, or whatever. He can't go to Hell. I don't know what I'll without him. There's no-one left, see? Everyone has died because of me. _

A giggle came bubbling up from his stomach. 

_He's quite a talker, isn't he Gordon?_ the second voice said. _Yeah, let's get him out of here before the drugs wear off, he's already starting to babble, _Gordon added.

TBC

Should I continue? Any good? Comments will be cuddled and fed.


	2. Help from unexpected sources

The call came from Henrickson, and Dean had never been gladder to hear from the FBI.

_I can't abide what Gordon's doing to him anymore. No-one deserves to go through that alone._

Dean kept quiet, imagination taking over and making it's own gruesome movie. A clearing of the throat on the other side of the telephone line made him wake up.

_Where is he? What have you done to him? Is he ok? What have you done to him?_

Henricksen cleared his voice again.

_We're in South Dokota._

****************************************************************************************

Two days later Dean stopped in front of an old barn in what felt like the middle of nowhere. Henrickson had given him directions and had gotten Gordon into custody once again, knowing exactly what to charge him of since he had gotten to know him so well. He had left Sam for Dean to find. And hopefully to fix.

_Sam?!....Sam?!_

A groan from behind a semi-closed door caught his attention and he was running in that direction within a split second. The door was hanging off of one hinge only and it took way too long for Dean to open it without it falling right into the room.

It was very dark inside, with no light source and no sun to light it from outside since he had reached the barn at night.

He was glad that he remembered the flashlight and immediately turned it on, beaming it from side to side in the room to try and see as much of the room as possible and find the brother that he had wanted to see for so long.

_Sammy? Where are you?_

Movement in the corner caught his eye. The reason for not seeing Sam sooner made him wince, as Sam was trying very hard to hide from him, covering himself with the straw covering the floor.

A hoarse whisper made him keep quiet.

_Don't make me do it, please?! All I see is him dying. I can't see him dying anymore._

A sob broke free.

_I'll do anything…please, just…just stop. _

Dean moved forward closed, trying to ignore the frantic scrabbling sound that started up as soon as he started moving.

_Sammy. Calm down, Sammy. It's me, Dean. I've come to get you._

There was no way to ignore the hitching gasps that came from the corner and Dean hurried closer, hoping to quell the fear that was evident from the shivering form ahead of him.

_It's never really Dean. You just promise, but it's never really him._ _He's dead..._

He finally reached the corner and ignored the flinch when the flashlight beamed over Sam's face. Sam was completely filthy, and Dean could see bruises covering whatever pieces of skin were poking out of his tattered clothing.

_What have they done to you, _he whispered softly, wondering whether Sam would want to answer him, or if he even could.

_Dean? No, please just stop...anyone but him...  
_

TBC.

What do you guys think?


End file.
